Did I grow up to be the woman I wanted to be? Honestly, I don’t know.
I know I said it myself. It came from me. It came from a gal who just turned 25 and had just made a reflection of herself.
Did I mention that I am sad? Yes, I believe I did. It’s the same sadness a regretful person feels when he or she reaches the dying ages, the stony type of gloom. But I’m not dying, so why do I get the jitters?
But after the gloom comes resolve. And this time, it’s different because I am already 25 years old. The resolve becomes much clearer and, well, imperative. If I am going to change the way I live my life, I must start right now before I die and have regrets.
I didn’t really realize how I am going to live my life. And I promise to make it better.
I may not be able to change everything in me, but I will try. Anyway, sometimes intent is enough, and sometimes it isn’t. The most important thing now is I have a clearer picture of what I want to be and where I should be.
